


Clint's Farm

by ShabbyChicGeek3



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, Clintasha - Freeform, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Humor, Wounded, clint barton farm, farm, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShabbyChicGeek3/pseuds/ShabbyChicGeek3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Marvel announced that Clint has a farm!!!! This is an awesome Clintasha filled story about various events over the years happening on that farm ;) Takes place over the years pre and post Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CLINT BARTON HAS A FARM!!!! Have you all heard that yet??? It was shown briefly in a teaser clip yesterday when Marvel announced their movie lineup, and I am so excited about it!!!!!! So, I had to write a fanfic. This is going to be over multiple years, of different times he brought Natasha to his farm. This first chapter is when they just started working together recently, so remember, she does not really trust him yet and might seem cold because she is still new to Shield, and part of her is still warped by the Red Room. Well, ok, she will ALWAYS be painfully warped by the Red Room. This is just Natasha when she was more so that way, haha. Ok, moving on. Future chapters will have Clintasha fluff, more Avengers, etc. 
> 
> I beg of you, please review!!!  
> ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The first time Clint brought her to the farm, he thought that she was dying. Ok, to be fair, so did she. It had been a rough mission; of course they were the best of the best, it wasn’t like Shield usually picked the easy missions for them to go on. But this one had ended quite badly and in Iowa of all places. When Phil briefed them on the mission, Natasha thought he was kidding at first. “”Are you joking right now Coulson? You’re saying we need to go on a mission, to bust a group trying to replicate some super soldier serum- in Iowa? That’s like, the middle of nowhere. The only thing there are farms, and, well, more farms. Come on, if the guy’s from Iowa, I doubt it’s a very hard mission. Can’t you send some of the Newbies? I’m sure they’d be thrilled to help” 

Clint was quiet next to his partner, playing idly with an arrow in his hands. They had not been working together for all that long, though in the past year Natasha had come to know Clint better than anyone she had ever met. Not that they were friends of course. Friendship was for children.

Coulson snapped the file closed, pushed it towards the duo of assassins. “Sorry Romanoff, Directors orders. If this mission is as easy as you say it is, you should be in and out within a matter of hours. In time to enjoy a relaxing weekend maybe. Catch up on some TV shows or something, I don’t know what you like to d in your spare time. Your plane leaves in an hour, I expect you both to be on it. Report back before next week, I’ll see you then.” Phil smiled at the two, and left. The Black Widow grabbed the sheaf of papers he had left on the table for them, and began leafing through them, scowling. 

“Honestly, you’d think they would put us to better use than this. Going after some hillbilly scientist in Iowa, come on! Waste of our time. What am I even supposed to bring? At least I’m guessing I won’t need a fancy dress or anything……” Clint flipped his arrow in the air and caught it, so it balanced on the tip of his finger. “Actually it would be a good idea to bring a nice casual dress or two. Nothing too fancy, don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Just something nice you would wear to a square dance or BBQ….. Never know what events we might have to use to get intel on the organization. Oh, and pack jeans. A few pairs should be enough, but you never know, you can get dirty fast there. It’s probably not too cold there this time of year, but bringing a couple sweaters wouldn’t hurt. Just not anything super nice you will want to wear again. Actually, don’t bring any clothing you want to wear again, because this time of year everything is going to be covered in mud.”

Natasha lifted an eyebrow at her partner. “Seriously? How do you suddenly know what someone should pack when going to Iowa? You never know what to bring. I seem to remember a couple months ago you asked me if you should bring a swim suit to Alaska- in the middle of winter.” Clint’s ears flushed bright red. “Don’t judge me on that, I heard they had some sweet hot tubs there…. It’s not like I actually brought it with me or anything. I’ve just been on a few mission in Idaho before, and happen to remember how the people dressed. Take my advice or not, it makes no difference to me Romanov.” Twirling the arrow so it blurred in his hand, Clint left the room, “See you on the plane,” he offered, before leaving the room. Natasha rolled her eyes at what a show off her partner could be when playing with his stupid arrows. Then made a note to pack some jeans in her mission bag. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They touched down in Iowa just a few hours later, Natasha ready to get this mission over and done with. She had nothing against being in such a rural countrified setting, she was just resentful feeling she was overqualified for this mission. “Come on Barton, get a move on, if we evaluate the base and decide we don’t have to go covert to get intel, we might get done before the night is over. I’m driving.” Clint moaned at this, but she knew he didn’t really mind. He was one of the only people she had met who didn’t object at her fast, ok, more like life endangering driving style. 

It was raining. The scene that greeted The Black Widow as she stepped off the plane was pretty much just what Nat expected to see in the middle of nowhere in Iowa. The rain was thudding heavily down from plump clouds that covered every crack in the sky, a forest of trees weeping rain water surrounded each side of the road, and everything that had once resembled dirt was now a thick sludge of mud. She already couldn’t wait to get out of here.

Clint, on the other hand, looked as if he was in his favorite place in the world. Stepping outside he threw his head up to meet the rain, a giant grin almost splitting his face in half. Natasha almost expected him to begin skipping in muddy puddles, so she said, “Birdbrain! You know you’re getting you’re bow wet!” Barton yelped, and dove for the protection of the car Shield had provided. 

Tossing her bag in the trunk of the car, Natasha slid into the drivers seat and was soon roaring down the road, that was sometimes an actual road, and sometimes little more than a strip of mud. 

Before, when she had been alone, before Clint recruited her, Natasha had always prepared herself before a mission the same way. With total silence. Focusing on the mark she was about to take out, and how best to carry out the job and please her handler. Ever her opposite, Clint liked to prepare himself with constant talking. 

Usually he talked about himself, or tried to learn more- ok, tried to learn ANYTHING about her. He always had a few stories to share before a mission. At first Natasha had been beyond annoyed by this, but after almost a year she had grown accustomed to it. Probably why today, when Clint was actually being quiet for once looking out his window, she actually started a conversation.

“When have you bee here before anyway?” She asked, eyes flickering to the man seated next to her, who she still hardly knew even after a year of being partners. Clint glanced over, probably surprised the Black Widow was actually starting a conversation for once. Being a smart man who wanted to stay alive and unmarred, he did not comment or joke about her suddenly being a Chatty Kathy. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been here a few times….. Had a mission where I busted a ring of drug smugglers way back when I first started working here, few years ago had to track down an escaped convict who it turned out was hiding in the woods, then I think the other time I was here I just had to take down a mark. Nothing too exciting. I just hope this mission will be more interesting, you know?”

Natasha almost smiled. “Don’t count on it Barton, this is going to be a painfully dull mission. Get in, take down some bad guys, rub out the mark, then I get to leave this state and get back to civilization. It’s almost too easy.”  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Except that it wasn’t. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. They had been given faulty information. They really should have waited a few days, tried to get information before going in. But Natasha was just so ready to get this over with, so confident it would be simple. More people were there than they had been informed. Only half of Clint’s brand new exploding arrows actually worked, and to top it all off, they were mistaken about the mark being dead. 

Clint finally thought the mission was over. Natasha had shot the insane Doctor working on the serum, and he was now a motionless bloody mass on the ground. Clint was walking around gathering what arrows he could salvage, when Natasha scanned the room for anything Shield might find useful. Both of them had been wounded, but nothing too serious. Cilnt had a nasty gash in his leg that might need stitches, a few bullets had almost hit him, but in all he had come out of the fight in pretty decent shape. Of course it looked like Natasha didn’t have more than a few scratches on her……. And you know whoever had been dumb enough to inflict them was now dead. Honestly, he had no idea how she did it….. She had never once been seriously wounded on a mission with him yet. It was like she was some superhuman, above such common things as injuries, blood loss, or getting hurt…… It was eery really. Clint almost wished he could see his new partner get injured, just to see she really was human.

He was going to regret thinking that.

His back was turned, trying to pull an arrow out of some guys stomach, so he did not see when the first gun fired off. First the one he heard closer to him, letting off several rounds. Clint rolled away, instinctively searching for cover. When he looked around to assess the situation, Natasha’s gun shot off one round. That was all it needed. And then, the mark they had come here to kill, was officially deceased. Again. 

“Romanoff!” Clint cried out, running towards his partner who was clutching at her stomach, eyes bugging out of her head. He reached her just as the assassins legs gave out beneath her, he caught her before she hit the ground. Clint could not see any blood on the dark material of her uniform, but he was positive the fabric was drenched in the stuff. “Agent Romanoff, talk to me, you need to tell me where he hit you and how many times.” She didn't say a word, maybe couldn’t. She was just grabbing for her stomach, mumbling under her breathe, gasping for air. This was the worst Clint had seen her since the day he first brought her into Shield. And it was scaring him.

“Damn it Natasha, talk to me right now, or I’m telling Coulson to assign you to a damn desk job!” The sound of her name stirred the Black Widow into coherence. “Three bullets….. No puncture of the heart or lungs….. Got some stuff in my stomach. We need to leave the bullets in for a bit because…… We don’t know what they hit….. Might be blocking internal bleeding……” Then she blacked out, clearly in pain.

Cursing, Clint lifted her into his arms, and carried her back to the car. There he tried to contact Shield, but the picturesque rain had turned into a brewing thunderstorm. He couldn’t contact anyone who could safely help them on his cell phone. Natasha was unconscious but whimpering in the seat next to him, Clint pounded the steering wheel in frustration. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t take her to a normal hospital, if they even stuck around this town any longer the deaths of the mad doctor and his men would be linked to them. Clearly Shield was going to be of no help, Clint and Tasha never had an extraction plan, no one was waiting for them. It might take too long for a Shield plane to come. Where could he go that would be safe? What could he do?

Feeling helpless, Clint pounded the steering wheel some more, and then peeled out of the parking lot, knowing he at least had to get the two of them away from the scene of the crime. Then he could evaluate Nat’s injuries and think of somewhere to go. He was steadily talking to Natasha, about nonsense really, just anything he could think of that could comfort her, keep her grounded to reality if she even could hear him.

He had been driving for almost ten minutes blabbering about arrows and comic books, when the idea hit him- and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it instantly. He did a sharp u-turn, began going in the opposite direction. It was normally an hour and a half away, but this was a special Shield car. If he was lucky he might get there in a third of that time. He would have to stop soon, once he was out of range of nosy police cars investigating the cimre scene he had just left to give some emergency first aid. But he could treat the worst of his partners injuries when they got to their destination- If he got their in time.

As Clint pressed his foot to the gas pedal, Natasha moaned, eyes fluttering open, gasping. “Where are we going?” Clint reached out and smoothed sweaty curls away from her pain stricken face, an act he could never do if Natasha was not drunk on the pain coursing through her body. “It’s going to be ok Nat. I’m stopping the car soon to give you some medicine and bandages, then we’re going to a special place. I promise you will love it.” Grimacing, Natasha only had seven words to say. “I told you…. Don’t call me Nat….”

Clint had to laugh at this. Of course she would care about a nickname after getting shot several times. “Come on Spidey, if you are going to be visiting my farm, I should get to call you whatever the hell I want.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you asking about where Marvel told about Clint's farm, here is a link where they say the team is at Clint's farm :) http://badassdigest.com/2014/10/28/civil-war-and-ragnarok-to-rattle-marvel-phase-three/ Enjoy the second chapter in one day! Please review guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was stil pouring down rain when Natasha woke up. When she really woke up- like, was actually aware of her surroundings, instead of knowing through a haze of pain that Barton was pulling bullets from her gut or that the car was still moving. She fully awoke, and took in her surroundings. Her mind was grasping for a foothold, trying to put together the events that had brought her here- wherever here was. Suddenly something clicked, and she could remember.

The stupid “easy” mission going so wrong. Getting shot after thinking the mark was dead, like some pathetic kind of stupid rookie. When had her field work gotten so damn sloppy? She hated herself for not making sure the Doctor had been dead. For turning her back to him. Ugh, honestly it was like she’d been asking to get shot. But what had happened next? Sitting up, sharp pain shot though Natasha’s stomach, she gasped and decided it might be better to lay down a bit more. Oh, Barton. He’d carried her out to the car, and after driving for a bit, dug the bullets from her flesh. She definitely remembered that. Biting down hard on the collar of a coat, trying to distract herself from the pain, trying not to scream. She was stronger than that. She'd reained silent. Then what had happened? She tried to remember, but guessed she must have blacked out from the pain. Where the hell was Clint? Where was she?

The room she was in was pretty small, with faded light green walls and little furniture. Just the bed, a nightstand, and a lamp that looked as if it was going to die any minute. There was a window too, but a faded lace curtain was blocking any view it might offer. Suddenly the creaking of a footstep sounded outside of the closed door, and instantly Natasha was on the alert. She instinctively grabbed under her pillow for the gun she always kept there, but came up empty handed. 

Not that it mattered, because Clint was the one to open the door. He was balancing a plate of something in one hand, and looked pleased to see her. “Hey, you’re awake! Good. I need to check on your injuries, and honestly was a bit scared at the prospect of having to wake you up…. Didn’t know if you would try and kill me or not… So I brought you breakfast. Thought that might help. Are you hungry?”

Natasha looked warily at the plate in his hand, filled with apple slices, toast, and some kind of creamy cheese. “Where are we?” She asked, ignoring the growling of her stomach at the sight of food. Clint placed the plate down on a nightstand, and seemed hesitant to answer her question. “Um, still in Iowa. We drove for a couple hours last night, we should be safe here.” The Black Widow rolled her eyes, she hated when people avoided answering a direct question by offering an indirect answer. “Ok, but where exactly is here?” 

The archer sat down on her bed, and reached for the quilt covering her. “Do you mind?” He asked. “I need to see if the wounds are becoming infected, plus changing the bandage wouldn’t hurt.” Natasha nodded her assent, and asked again. “Barton, where are we? Why did you bring me here?” The archer gently pulled the quilt away, and gingerly began rolling Natasha’s shirt up over her stomach until her bandaged wounds were exposed. He sighed heavily as he started peeling away the bloody gauze. “I brought you here so we wouldn’t get caught, and you wouldn’t die. Duh. And “here” is a farm. It’s just a place that has proven itself to be safe. I’ve been here before. It’s a nice place.”

Natasha wanted to ask more questions, but was distracted as the final layers of the gauze were peeled wetly from her stomach, and she looked down to see the damage. Three bullet holes, just barely starting to scab over. Just by looking at them Natasha knew she was probably going to be here a while- or at the very least be forced to stay in this bed for a couple of days. “How do you feel?” Clint asked, as he began dabbing at the wounds with doe antiseptic wipes.” Ignoring the burning sting of the cool wipes, Natasha rolled her eyes. “I feel like I’ve been shot. I’ve had worse, I’ll live. If anything severe was bleeding internally we’d have known by now, as long as infection doesn't set in I’ll be fine.”

The next ten or so minutes consisted of Natasha biting back sounds of pain, or weakness, as Clint cleaned and bandaged her wounds, and gave her some medicine he said would help prevent infection. Finally when they were done, Clint tucked the quilt back around her, and instead of making a snarky joke, Natasha let him take care of her. She was still curious about why they were on a farm of all places, but right now she just wanted to sleep. So at first she was more than a little annoyed when he didn’t leave right away. Then he spoke.

“The farm…. Don’t worry, it’s safe. Over the years I have made sure it is very well protected. It’s been in my family for generations. It was the only place I could think to take you until we can contact Shield.”

Natasha wasn’t sure how to react or what to say, so she chose to remain silent, processing this information. She finally mumbled into her pillow, “Thanks. For bringing me. I appreciate, I’m sure it wasn’t an easy choice to bring me here…..” Clint just shrugged, “No problem. I did what I had to. Can I get you anything before I head back down?” Falling asleep now, Natasha shook her head. Then jerked back awake as Clint was closing the door.

“Barton wait! Just one thing!” He opened the door, poked his head back in. She smiled. “Can you bring me my gun? It feels wrong to sleep without having it close by.” Clint smirked, “Fine, whatever the patient wants.” And went downstairs to retrieve every one of Natasha’s weapons, before carrying them up to the guest room she was staying in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter will be a new farm adventure, not this one where Natasha first comes to the farm. Oooh, wonder what it is! Just kidding, I totally have it planned already ;) Happy Halloween!! Enjoy!!!!

The next night as Clint again cleaned and bandaged Natasha’s wounds, she asked when he was going to give her a tour of the farm. He replied that he’d be happy to show her around,just as soon as she felt well enough to get up and walk around. He had forgotten of course who he was talking to, and assumed it would be at least another week before Natasha would want to walk around. 

The next morning he was cooking breakfast, frying bacon in one pan, scrambling himself eggs in the other. He was wondering if Natasha was awake, if he should cook her some breakfast now. Then someone spoke behind him. 

“Hey farm boy. So, I just have to ask, do you think the crops will be ready for harvest soon?” The Black Widow was smirking, pleased she had been able to sneak up on her partner without him noticing. Clint turned around, dumping his eggs on a plate, hiding his irritation that Natasha was up and moving when they both knew she should be recuperating in bed. Even now as he looked at her he saw how she was favoring her right side, where the bullets had blasted into her. Saw how she was trying to catch her breathe just from walking down a flight of stairs. He looked at Natasha Romanov and saw a flash of weakness that she always strove to hide from everyone, and refused to admit she even had. He put the eggs down on the table.

“I don’t grow crops here dummy. How would I be able to do that when I am at Shield constantly?” Natasha stuck her lip out in a pout, and said, “So I assume you don’t have any animals either? No cows or chickens, or whatever animals farmers grow?” Clint cracked another egg into the frying pan, not having to ask how his partner wanted her breakfast cooked. Sunnyside up, with the yolk of the egg extra runny. So that she could break it and spread it all over the rest of her food. Disgusting.

“You don’t grow animals, you raise them. And if I can’t take care of a few plants, what makes you think I would be equipped to take care of animals? There’s this black cat that hangs out in the barn, eating mice or whatever. The things totally wild, won’t get within twenty feet of anyone. It’s the only animal I’ve got at the moment.” Clint carefully scooped the egg out of the pan onto a plate, and set it down in front of his partner. He then placed some toast, and a few pieces of bacon on there too. “Now, if you insist on coming down here, I’m going to insist you eat all of that. I don’t care if you aren’t hungry, you’ve been shot, and it’s not healthy to not be eating like you have. You need your strength.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, and grudgingly shoved a piece of toast into her mouth. “Gee, thanks, like I’ve never had to recover from a bullet before. You can quit worrying Barton, I know what I’m doing.” The two assassins sat together, quiet for once, just eating breakfast. After a few moments though, Natasha spoke. “I have to say, I did not think of you as the country boy farm type. I mean, I knew you liked animals, but never thought of you with a farm. That’s surprising.”

Clint raised an eyebrow at his partner. “How do you know I like animals?” Nat rolled her eyes in response. “Come on. You can’t walk by a dog without asking if you can pet it. And you’re always reading weird animals books….. Like, Marley and Me? What the heck was that one even about?” Clint shrugged, “It was just a book about a dog. You’d like it.” Natasha snorted, 'Yeah right, for some reason I doubt that." ’

Natasha pushed her plate away, Clint would have preferred it if she had eaten a bit more, but at least the egg and most of the bacon was gone from her plate. “Now” she said, standing up from the table, trying to hide how the movement pained her. “Can you give me a tour of your farm?” “Natasha, no! You shouldn’t even be walking yet. You need to rest! You should go up back to bed now!” 

The Black Widow’s face darkened dangerously. “You are not in control of me Barton, quit worrying over me. I don’t want to spend all day cooped up in that room, and you can’t make me go back up there.” The look on her face was getting downright terrifying, But Clint was not going to give in, or let his partner injure herself more by not taking care of herself. “Natasha, I know you can take care of yourself, but you need to rest. And if you don’t, I am going to call Shield and they will put you in a hospital.” Tasha’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare. Clint tossed some dishes in the sink. “Go ahead, try me.” 

For a second Natasha looked as if she was going to fight him, then she deflated, realizing Clint was serious. The only thing she hated more than staying still was being in a hospital. She already owed Clint big time for not taking her to one in the first place. “Fine. I promise I’ll rest for another day or two….. Is there a porch or something I can sit on at least? I’m not exactly an invalid, I don’t need to be in bed all day.” Clint considered this, then nodded. “Yeah, I have a couple chairs out there. Being outside would probably be good for you.”

Not saying another word, Natasha stormed out of the room, and out of the house. Clint felt guilty as he cleaned up the remains of breakfast. It boggled his mind how he and his partner could work so well together in the field, and still be so dysfunctional out of it. She was always fighting with him. He was always annoying her. He knew he talked too much, but he was a social person, and she hardly spoke at all. Admittedly that had gotten a bit better the last month or so, but he still hardly knew anything about Natasha Romanoff. She was secretive, distant, most of the agents of Shield were terrified of the Black Widow. But not Clint. He liked her. Why on earth did he like her? It was a question he asked himself almost daily. 

Grabbing a couple bottles of water, Clint went out to the porch where he found his partner sitting, with- something, on her lap. Clint took a step closer, confused, then the thing in Natasha’s lap hissed. It was the stray cat Clint had seen every time he visited the farm over the last few years. The cat he left food out for every time he visited, who he paid a neighbor to feed by leaving out a scoop of dry cat food every couple of weeks. The cat who had refused to come anywhere close to him, since the fist day Clint saw it. It was sitting in Natasha’s lap, alternating between hissing at Clint, and purring as the Black Widow scratched it’s ears. 

She looked up, and smirked when she saw the look on Clint’s face. “Barton, do you have any of that bacon left?” Clint just stared at her, stammering, “But…. how…. what…. the cat…. How did you get it to come to you?” “You mean how did I get her to come to me?” Natasha just continued smirking at her partner, and continued petting the animal who was now rubbing its head affectionately against her hand. 

In that moment Clint didn’t care about why he liked Natasha Romanov. He just knew that he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, I will accept requests for any farm adventures you would like to see in this story. Please review guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, one more chapter kind of relating to the story we have going, with Natasha being shot, and going to the farm for the first time. But not really. Enjoy!!!!

They stayed at the farm for a week. A typical person would need more time to recover from multiple bullet wounds, but Natasha Romanoff was not typical. She would probably need some more medical care back at headquarters,but she was no longer wounded enough that they would force her to spend any large amount of time in the med wing. So she was fine with heading back now. And Clint had promised that if they did try and corral her in a hospital bed for any amount of time, he would break her out and they would head back to the farm. 

They’d been on the road for a few hours, Clint pulled into a gas station and asked his partner if she wanted a drink or anything. Natasha shrugged, and moved the vents of the air conditioning so they were blowing directly into her face. “I don’t care. I guess a drink or whatever would be nice.”

Clint grinned, “Got it!” And strolled into the building after refilling the car with gas. He knew she was not happy about going back to Shield- she got like this sometimes. Fell into dark moods that were difficult to crawl out of, even with his help. These moods where she was tired of what she was doing, didn’t want to deal with the action and the fighting and the death anymore. She had never told Clint this of course, but he understood. Too often he felt the same way. And he just wanted to make her feel better. 

Natasha sat still in the car, eyes closed, wishing that she could fall asleep and escape for a while. She didn’t want to go back yet. She just wished she could slide into the drivers seat of the car, and drive until she got to somewhere where nobody knew her. But that was stupid. The only skills she had were those good for death. And if she took one step out from under the protection Shield offered her, a dozen different organizations would begin a hunt that would not end until they had her head. So she was stuck. Going back to Shield where no one trusted her, and no one but Barton spoke to her like she was an actual person. Going back to her job of killing and hunting and hiding in the night. 

Thoughts like this, memories of a hundred missions swirled through her mind, pulling her deeper into the dark. Things had been so- peaceful at the farm. She had never thought of herself as a country girl, who could enjoy staying on a farm of all things. But she had been weirdly happy there, and now had to return to her job. Her excuse of a life.

The door opened, and Clint entered, smiling broadly carrying a large bag and giant soda cup. He put the cup in her cup holder, “Cherry Coke, right? Almost no ice, AND bonus points, got you a blue straw. Perfect drink, right?” Natasha almost smiled at this, as she picked up the cup and took a long drink from it. “Thanks Barton. What’s in the bag?”

He held it up, and then dropped it in her lap. “See for yourself!” As they drove out of the parking lot, she opened the bag and looked through it. “God Barton, did you buy every kind of junk food they had?” Clint smirked, “Hey, I was very self restrained. I didn’t get curly fries, OR the funnel cake. Well I didn’t get that because it looked ancient, but you should be glad that bag isn’t full of curly fries or hot dogs!” 

Natasha had to smile now. Ok, yeah, thanks for that. Because honestly then the car would have reeked, and I am not sure I could have handled that. But really? You had to get three kinds of candy bars, gummy worms, and fun dip? Fun dip? What the heck is that anyway?”

Clint looked at her, mouth open in shock. “Are you kidding me Romanof? You have never had fun dip before? Where have YOU been?” Natasha smirked, “Trust me you wouldn’t want to know the answer to that Barton. What is it anyway? It sounds like a drug.” Clint snorted, “Well some people would call it that. Open it, try some, if you don’t love it I’ll let you drive till we get to New York.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Natasha ripped open the package and peered inside at the powder, and little candy stick. “Ok, now what?” She asked, dubiously staring at the candy. “Just lick the lollipop, then dip it in the powder, and lick it again. It’s amazing.” Natasha did so, and rolled her eyes. “Fine. It’s not half bad. I don’t love it, but it’s not bad. Can I drive now?” Clint snorted. “You know there was no way I was going to let you drive right now Nat. Just tell me you love the candy so I don’t have to be guilty.” Natasha grimaced and tossed an unopened pack of fun dip at her partner. “Filthy liar, it’s amazing anyone ever trusts you. And I told you, do not call me Nat.” 

Clint was making his pouting puppy dog face. “Hey, people trust me…. I honestly thought you would love the candy, and wouldn’t turn me into liar….. If I tell you there should be a hershey bar somewhere in there, will you trust me again?” Natasha started looking through the junk food. “Well, only if it’s actually in there Barton.”

The next few minutes were silent, until Natasha spoke. “I just have to ask. You don’t grow any actual crops, and the only thing you have is a cat named Galina.” Clint raised his eyebrows at this, and was about to comment but his partner interrupted. “Yes. Galina. It’s a Russian name- shut up Barton. Anyway, how can you call it a farm? Isn’t it more of a farm house?” 

Clint was quiet for a little, thinking about his answer.He reached over and grabbed the gummy worms from the bag in Natasha’s lap. “When I was a kid it was a farm. I grew up there, we had a load of animals. Grew crops, had a garden, all that stuff. When I was eight my parents died, the farm was left to me and my brother. But he isn’t that into it, didn’t want to take over when he was old enough to inherit it. By the time I turned 18….. I already had other jobs to occupy my time.” 

Natasha was silent, not quite sure what to say. She didn’t know much about her partners past- just what she had been able to steal from his file. But that had not gone much into his childhood, this was new information. He continued talking.

“I’d like to get it running again, not even for money. Just so I could have it the way it used to be. I just don’t have the time. Heck that was the first time I even visited the place in half a year. It’s probably always going to be an abandoned piece of junk now.” 

Natasha dug in the bag, and handed Clint some more candy. “Well, you never know….. Maybe one day you can fix it up, and fill it with animals and corn or whatever. I don’t know what you farmers like. You can buy a tractor, and just….. Have the farm you remember from your childhood” 

Clint smiled sadly at his partner. “Actually, yeah. I would love that. I just don’t have the time to do that. Coulson might give me some time off if he knew, but I never told him. I just don’t have time to fix up and run a farm…… But I hope someday I can bring it back to what it was. Restore it to it’s former glory.”

Clint’s voice was sarcastic now, but maybe Natasha didn’t notice. She picked up her soda and said, “Well just make sure you invite me over as soon as that happens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been wanting to write something about Clint and Nat going on a road trip kind of thing for so long!!!!! That was such fun!!!!!! Hope you liked it, please review!!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I fixed typos in my older chapters! Sorry about that, I have limited wifi access, and sometimes do not have time for a final check:/ Hope you enjoy this chapter!!!!

For the next year or so the farm was hardly spoken of between the two assassins. Occasionally if they were on a mission that brought them to some rural part of a county, Clint would comment on things that reminded him of the farm. He told her a couple stories about growing up there once. Just silly little things about playing with farm animals or helping his mother make cookies once. One of the few happy memories he had involving a parent. 

For his Birthday, Natasha bought Clint a tiny bucket filled with toy plastic farm animals. On the anniversary of the day they first met, the day he saved her, Clint gave Natasha a stuffed black cat that looked eerily like Galina from the farm. Ok, so he also gave her a new gun, but surprisingly she found she was more pleased to receive the stuffed cat. On nights when the nightmares got worse than usual, nights she thought she would rather end her life than go through another second tortured by those dreams, she would find the stuffed toy and hold it tight against her. Almost always it helped chase the darkness away. 

Things had been pretty boring honestly, since the last mission that landed them on the farm. Clint had been shot a couple times, Natasha had been stabbed and tortured and again shot, they had saved the world once or twice, and taken out a couple terrorist groups. Nothing all THAT interesting. Luckily nothing all that bad, that led to critical injuries they could not recover from. 

Then it happened. 

They were on a mission in CA, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Some twisted mad genius had been trying to plant explosives in a dozen or so roads and overpasses being built in LA, strike team delta had been sent in to put an end to his fun. 

They knew it was a risky mission, just based on the lack of information they had received. It was basically just, “This guy is blowing stuff up, he has enough explosives to destroy half a city. And we do not know where he is keeping them. Oh, and he might be a mad genius. Good luck!” Idiots. 

Though honestly if you ignored the complete lack of information they had been given, this mission should have been easy. It was just a lunatic, in a house, filled with explosives. As far as they knew, he didn’t even have anyone working for him. How difficult could it be, really? Clint had even joked that he should just drop Natasha off to handle the whole situation, so that he could go grab some in-and -out burgers for lunch. 

It was decided that only one of them would go on- it was decided Hawkeye would go in. Natasha was somewhat of a better shot in close assasination situations, but only with a gun. And in this situation, if a bullet misfired, caused a spark, bounced against the wrong thing, the entire house could blow up. One of the side effects of not being sure where a few hundred pounds of explosives were hiding. 

So, for once, their positions were reversed. Natasha was on the lookout, hiding out in the car, eyes glued to the house, a few hundred feet away. The house was in the middle of nowhere, and Natasha felt very vulnerable sitting in the car, with nothing to hide it. She was listening to her partner through the ear piece, waiting for something interesting to happen. Meanwhile Clint was inside, hoping to sneak in undetected, knock the suspect out with one of his “sleepy time arrows” and get this done with. That was the plan. Why does the plan almost never work out?

Bored, Natasha spoke into the mic connected to Barton’s ear piece. “One civilian car just passed by, still nothing suspicious in the area. Just one bored Black Widow. Did you find him yet?” Clint’s voice was hushed over the comm, “Nothing yet. Keep you updated.” The house was not that large, they had been sure the man was home. It should not have taken this long for Clint to find him. 

That should have been the first clue that something wasn’t right. One minute Natasha couldn’t hear anything over the comm, then the noises of a fight took over. Something breaking, punches landing, the sound of Barton drawing a new arrow into his bow. And then another. Natasha wanted to ask what was going on, but she knew how annoying, even life threatening that could be, Having someone yapping in your ear when you are fighting for your life. She would give it two minutes. If the fight was not over in two minutes, she would go in and handle this. 

She started counting. And then heard Clint, “Oh crap, no!” Followed by the sound of breaking glass. Before she could ask what was happening, get out of the car to go help, an explosion rocked the car. When the Black Widow looked up, the house was practically falling apart, everything was on fire. 

Natasha was out of the car in an instant, running towards the house, wondering why she had parked the damn car so far away. Wondering why the hell she had not insisted on going in with Barton, the idiot! She was yelling into the comm now, demanding Clint to tell where he was located, asking if he had been injured. She didn’t get any answers. 

The front of the house was utterly consumed by flames, Natasha felt the wave of heat rolling off it like a punch to the face. She would have to hope she could find a way to get to Clint from the back. But as she bolted around to the other side of the building, she saw someone on the ground, maybe ten feet from the burning house. Without taking another step she knew it was Clint. She felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over her.

“Barton!” She cried out, running towards him. He wasn’t moving, but when she reached him, Natasha was relived to see Clint’s eyes flutter open. He had blood on his face, near his ears, cuts and scrapes were blossoming red all over his neck and scalp. But he was alive. “Barton, you need to get up, come on, we have to get out of here.” Clint just stared at her dreamily, not answering, not reacting. 

She pulled him up, forcing him to stand. “Can you walk? Barton, you have to walk now. Come on, hurry. We’ve got to get to the car now.” She tugged his arm, and Clint stumbled, in a daze, but was able to follow his partner to the car. When they were almost there, a second louder explosion happened behind them, leaving Natasha’s ears ringing painfully. When she looked behind her, there wasn’t even a house anymore. Just wreckage falling from the sky. 

“Shit Barton, we need to get out of here now. Go. Run.” She guessed Clint was in shock, he didn’t react when she said this, had to be pulled to move at a faster pace. That was fine, Natasha had seen people come out worse from a giant explosion. Soon they were in the car, and the Black Widow was driving as fast as she could. The house had been pretty isolated, but no doubt someone had reported the explosion. And the last thing the Black Widow felt like dealing with right now was talking to a bunch of police officers, explaining why she and Clint had been at the scene of the crime. 

They drove for around fifteen minutes, Natasha intent on dodging traffic, pushing the speed limit, executing their getaway. Then she looked over at her partner, and realized something was wrong. Very much wrong. Clint was sitting in the chair next to her, eyes closed tight. He was rubbing furiously at his ears, and Natasha saw they were bleeding profusely. His ears, were bleeding. That could not be good.

“Clint? What’s happening, I need you to talk to me. What happened? Are you ok?” The archer did not turn his head to look at her. She spoke again, louder. “Clint! What happened? Do we need to take you to a hospital?” He still didn’t respond. She reached out and touched his arm. Clint jerked away, fear in his face, looking utterly surprised at her touch. “Clint, what’s wrong?” She asked tensely. 

Again, Clint did not answer. Instead he stared at her, saw her mouth moving in words. And realized he could not hear what his partner was saying. Natasha realized the same thing in that horrible moment. And she flipped open her phone.

“Coulson, Natasha. It’s an emergency. We need a med unit to come for us immediately. Yes. It’s Barton. Has a possible concussion, multiple cuts, and- something’s wrong with his hearing. We need help as soon as possible.”  
______________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, sorry for a mistake one of you pointed out to me :( At first when writing this story I had read Clint's farm in the comics is in Iowa, but I forgot that when I was writing, and could not find the information again. So I knew the state was one begining with an I, and said the farm was in Idaho. THEN I again found the info, and went back and though I changed all of the Idaho's to Iowa's buuut I guess I missed a couple, and confused a few people. Sorry!!! Hopefully I am pretty sure I have fixed all those mistakes, but if you find another please let me know!! Enjoy!!! Also, I do not know a lot about deafness, or how people go to deaf, so please excuse me if parts of the story are wrong, or not possible.....

No way was Natasha ever going to trust a shield hospital ever again. Ok, she never trusted them anyway- but after this incompetence? This massive mess up? Idiots. How on earth could a hospital lose a patient?? She had spent one night in her room,just one! Utterly exhausted from staying in Barton’s hospital room all day and night for the past week. She had been gone for five, six hours tops. And they had lost him. Ok, more like he had escaped, but honestly they should have been paying better attention. 

She should have known this would happen. 

After she brought her partner to the med ward, and he had been rushed to the operating room for a couple hours, they had broken the news of his poor diagnosis to Natasha. They explained the small injuries first. A concussion, a few burns from flaming rubble, some cuts and bruises. Then they told her the news she had been dreading. 

The explosion had severely ruptured Clint’s eardrums. The terrified looking doctor who was the unlucky one who had to explain all of this to the Black Widow, had told her Barton was a good candidate for Shield’s hearing aids, but he would never be able to hear on his own again. He would forever have to live with this handicap. 

Probably scared that Natasha was going to blame him for her partners misfortune, or worse take her anger out on him, the doctor had fled the room quickly after answering a few questions, and at her insistence, again explaining in detail the state of Clint’s ears to Tasha. 

After that, the next few days were a blur in the Black Widows mind. Waiting for her partner to wake up from the medically induced come he had been put in, wondering what she was going to say when he awoke. Coulson calling her to his office, explaining that he felt he should be the one to break the news to Barton. His reasoning was that he had known Clint for far longer than Natasha, and would know what to say. That had secretly killed her inside. Because sure, she had been partners with Clint for under two years- but she still felt she knew him better than anyone she had ever worked with before. That she knew him better than anyone else. But whatever. It was going to be a hellish job breaking the news to the archer, she would let Coulson do it, whatever. She didn’t care. That’s what she told herself. 

That was the night she decided to sleep in her own room, after four nights of sleeping in a chair next to her partners bed. When she woke up, someone was pounding on her door. Grabbing the gun from under her pillow, Natasha went to see who it was. Phil looked like a kid who had just lost his dog. “Romanoff, we have a situation- Um, well, Barton woke up, and we broke the news to him, and he took it well enough. And then I left the room for ten minutes, because I thought he might want some food- and when I came back,um, he was gone.”

Natasha just stared at her handler, in disbelief. Still holding the gun in her hand. “What? You LOST him? But, he was in the med ward, weren’t people watching him to make sure he couldn’t get out?” Coulson rolled his eyes, “Well, duh, but come on, it’s Clint we’re talking about. Just remember all the times you’ve escaped from the med ward when you didn’t want to be there.” The Black Widow put the gun back on her bed, began rifling through her closet for an outfit to wear that was more suitable than the usual yoga pants and tank top she slept in. 

“Please tell me this just happened”, she said, her voice had a threatening edge to it. Coulson was suspiciously silent. “Coulson….. How long ago did Barton get out?” Phil sighed, nervously ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Um…. we thought it would be easy to find him at first. It took time to search the med ward…. We looked in the cafeteria….. Then we sent out people to start scanning the rooms and offices….. And the target practice and shooting range…… And the garage….So….” Natasha had just grabbed a handful of knives from her nightstand, and now she turned to Phil, a dangerous look on her face. 

“Coulson- how long ago did Barton escape?” The man’s eyes darted to the weapons the spy was holding. “Put down the weapons and I’ll tell you….” She threw the knives onto her bed, where they landed next to her gun. “Um…. Don’t be too mad Natasha, we will find him. But- he’s been missing for almost two hours.”

Not ten minutes later, Natasha was dressed ready to go, a packed bag in hand. Coulson had been confused as he watched her pack. “What are you doing? We need to get into the city and begin looking for him, widen our search range. I have a list of possible places he would go-“ Natasha stuffed a couple more pairs of jeans into her bag, grabbed the list from his hand. She snorted and tossed it back to him. “Yeah, good luck with that.” She began piling sweaters, jackets and weapons into her bag. “Romanof, what exactly are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?” Coulson had expected Natasha to tackle him to the ground when she heard her partner was gone, then instantly begin searching. He did not expect her to start packing her bags.

The Black Widow zipped the bag closed, grabbed the gun off of her bed, tucked it into the pockets of the pants she had changed into. “I”m going to go where I know Barton is. But good luck searching for him, have fun with that.” Then she was gone, leaving Coulson alone in her room, wondering what the heck was happening, and why nothing could ever just be normal with this job.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The plane ride didn’t take very long, though it was odd for Natasha to be on an airplane not belonging to shield. Honestly she would have preferred one of their faster, private planes, but then she would have had to tell someone where she was going. Tell them about the farm even, maybe. And she wouldn’t betray Clint’s secret like that, not after all he had done for her. So, the Black Widow had to put up with flying on an overcrowded plane, with a last minute ticket landing her in the coach section. Fun. 

But soon enough, Natasha was back in Iowa. She rented a car, and made her way to Clint’s farm. She didn’t have to hope that Barton was going to be here, because she knew there was no where else he would want to be right now. Sure enough, as she pulled into the driveway, she saw a second rental car was already parked in front of the farm house. 

The door was locked, of course, but Natasha was able to make short work of that. It took her almost a minute to pick it, and open the door. Not bad, that was a pretty good lock- usually it would have taken her less than ten seconds. 

Once Natasha was standing inside of the house, she realized she was not sure what exactly she should do next. She imagined herself in this situation. No longer able to hear anything, probably scared, trying to cope with this new way of living. After a lifetime of hunting down people, knowing how it felt to be hunted, she knew she would be paranoid in Clint’s situation. Knew that if someone just appeared with no warning, she might shoot first and ask questions later.

So, she proceeded with caution. Trying to find Clint before he saw her, and possibly acted without thinking. He wasn’t on the first floor. As soon as she went upstairs, Natasha saw the bedroom door was closed. But light was streaming out from under it, and she heard movement on the other side. Well, she found him. But now what?

After some thought, the Black Widow went downstairs, and found some pencils, and a notebook. She scribbled a note down, and slid it under the door. 

“It’s me. Open the door, dumb-ass.”

She waited a few minutes, wondering if maybe Clint was asleep, or if she should just open the door and assume he would not freak out, and possibly, probably, accidentally shoot her with an arrow. Then a scrap of paper slid out from the crack, and landed against her feet. It was written in the familiar scrawl of her partners handwriting. 

“You shouldn’t have come here. I just wan’t to be alone, go back to Shield.”

Natasha grimaced, and slid another note through the crack.

“Open the door or I am opening it myself.”

It didn’t take long for the next note to come-

“Open the door, and I am climbing out the window.”

It took less than five seconds to pick this lock, Natasha was in the room before Clint was halfway across it. She grabbed him by the shoulders, and forced him into a chair, then stood between him and the window, just because she so did not feel like chasing after him right now. 

But then, she opened her mouth to begin talking to him, and it hit her again that he couldn’t hear her. And that was hard to realize. She saw Clint flinch after she opened her mouth, and she felt like an idiot. Natasha grabbed the paper he had been writing with, and jotted down a note.

“You are being such an idiot. They can get you hearing aids, you’ll be able to hear just like before. This won’t be a handicap, you will still live a good life.”

Clint stared with dull eyes at his partner, after he read the note, he flipped it and began writing on the other side. The pencil moved furiously across the paper, when he was done, he shoved the note towards Natasha. 

“No, it won’t be just like before. I know how these things work. I am never going to be able to hear the same way again Nat, never. And I am only going to be able to hear, when I am depending on stupid devices in my ears. What if they go out in the middle of a mission? What if we are undercover, but I am not supposed to be wearing hearing aids, and someone notices? How am I going to be able to hear someone coming behind me, I wouldn’t even know if someone prepped a pistol behind me, and was about to shoot me in the head. Hell, I didn’t even know you got into my house until you slipped a damn note under the door. The hearing aids will only help, they can’t give me my hearing back though, not like before. Things will never be the same again. I will never be the same.”

Natasha read the note, and was trying to think of an argument, trying to think of words to say that would help one of the only people she cared about. Then, she herd Clint speak for the first time since the accident. His voice sounded almost normal, but you just knew something was wrong by the way he spoke louder than he had to, the way he pronounced each letter. 

“I’m quitting Shield, Natasha."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please give a review guys!!!!


	7. Chapter Seven

Natasha tried every argument that she could to convince Clint to return to Shield with her. Unfortunately, Clint had learned it was very easy to ignore his partner when he could not hear anything she was saying, and could just ignore any notes passed his way. So finally, fed up with everything, Natasha stormed out of the room and out onto the porch of the farmhouse. 

She understood Clint’s pain, his hesitance towards working in the field with a handicap. And she did know that even with the best hearing aids that Shield could offer, her partner would never be able to hear the same way again. But Natasha knew that Barton belonged working in the field— In the field at Shield working with her, not in a field here growing beets or whatever. Honestly, he belonged at Shield. He belonged at Natasha’s side.

No, it was stupid to think that. It wasn’t like Clint was hers to own, or that he belonged next to her. Honestly she hardly cared about that. About him. She just knew that it would be a total pain in the ass to break in a new partner, a worse pain to find anyone who would be willing to work with her. At least that’s what she told herself.

It was past midnight, the evening surrounding the farmhouse was completely still. Natasha grabbed one of the chairs, and sat down in it. She felt so utterly helpless right now. Before this happened, she wouldn’t have thought she even cared if Clint was her partner or not. But now that he might be leaving her, giving up on the partnership they'd built, she realized how important this relationship (could she maybe even call it a friendship?)was. She had always viewed friends as weaknesses, things that could be taken from her, or worse be used against her. But now that Natasha had to think about this, she realized Clint was a friend. One she could not stand to lose.

Suddenly Natasha heard a rustling come from a bush close to the house- She pulled a knife from her pocket,and cautiously moved forward to investigate. Of course she was out in the wilderness, Tasha knew the rustling was probably just a wild animal hunting for dinner. But you could never be too careful. Never think that anywhere was really safe.

She stepped towards the overgrown bush, and cautiously peered into it- Then a small fluffy black lump pounced onto the Assassin’s feet- It was the barn cat, Galina. Natasha sighed, stooped down, and picked up the cat. It didn’t even struggle, instead it started purring the moment Nat began scratching behind the cats ears.

Natasha stood there in the dark for a long time, holding the cat, looking up at the stars every now and then. They were beautifully clear here, not like in the city where they were little more than blurred spots of light, straining to be seen through an overcrowded smog choked sky. The sky here was gorgeous, but could not distract the Black Widow from her problems. 

She had to convince Clint to continue working at Shield, continue working with her. But how? What could she possibly do to let him know he could still be perfectly capable at his job, that he had a reason to stay?

Eventually Galina began squirming to escape from Natasha’s arms, so she let the cat go, it went running back into the darkness. The Black Widow almost wished that she could follow. Maybe it would be easier to escape, to start a new life away from everything and hope she would survive, rather than start over again with Shield. Just the thought of trying to find a new partner, who she knew would never really trust her, gave Natasha a headache. Maybe she could just do solo missions, but she’d already had enough of that life.

Sighing, Nat turned and went back into the house. Up in the guest room, she was still trying to think of what to do. Barton was so crazy, unpredictable, stubborn, even idiotic sometimes. But he always worked so hard, at everything he did. He had certainly worked hard convincing Natasha to partner with him, then worked even harder these past years, trying to make Natasha his friend. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to always push him away these last couple of years. If she hadn’t, would Clint be less ready to give up their partnership?

If Natasha knew anything about Clint after working together for so long, she knew he could be unpredictable, strange, and more than a bit crazy. Maybe it was time to take a new approach in convincing him to stay. She rummaged through the guest room, and began inently drafting a plan in the notebook she found.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

For some reason when Clint came downstairs the next morning, he was not at all surprised to see Natasha sitting at his table. Probably because she had already brewed a pot of coffee, and the rich aroma was filling the house when Clint woke up. Anyway, she was sitting at the table with an array of papers neatly arranged in front of her. She was drinking out of Clint’s favorite coffee cup, and did not look surprised to see him enter. 

She held up the first piece of paper. “Good morning. You need to go shopping- the only food you have is coffee.” Clint almost smiled. He filled another cup with coffee, sat down, and Natasha pushed a pile of scrap paper, and pencil towards him. He wrote- “Sorry usually I stock up at the store down the road. But they know me there. Didn’t want to have to explain everything right now.” Natasha accepted this, and let her partner drink his coffee for a minute, giving him a chance to wake up. Meanwhile Nat was exhausted, wondering if maybe she should have tried to catch some sleep last night in-between trying to work out the arrangement she had in mind. She neatly stacked the papers piled in front of her, and handed the next one to Barton.

“I’m not letting you quit without a fight. You brought me into Shield, you can’t leave me to find some loser to become my new partner. Just let me suggest something before you quit on me.” Clint lifted his pencil to write a counterargument, but had another paper placed under his nose. “Ok, I know you think you aren’t fit in the field anymore. But Shield has tests in place to make sure every one of their agents are fit for the work they do. You can take hundreds of those, and I guarantee once you get the hearing aids, you will be cleared for work after every test you take. Just think about that, and let me tell you what I will do if you stay at Shield- And continue working with me.”

Natasha had the next paper in hand, and watched Clint’s face as he read the note, waiting to hand over the next one until he was finished. She felt like her plan was kind of stupid, but if it worked, she didn’t care. Clint pushed the latest paper aside, Natasha handed him the next one.

“Come back to Shield, and as I told you a hundred times last night, they will get you the best hearing aids the world has to offer. Plus, I will learn sign language with you. So no matter what you will always have someone to talk with. I mean, seriously, this writing thing gets really old really fast. Plus we both know I will learn it way faster than you, and can help you out.”

Clint raised an eyebrow at his partner as he reached the end of that note, Natasha just smirked as she handed over the next one. “So to recap, you will be able to hear again, have proof that you are fit to work in the field, and we will both know an awesome secret language, so we can talk about people behind their backs, even when we are right in front of them. Honestly I think that is a sweet enough deal, but you are such a pig headed idiot, I am going to add in a couple more things.”

Clint looked across the table, waited for the next note. Natasha held it in her hands, and seemed to think for a long moment before handing it over.

“Barton- If you come back to Shield with me, I will be your friend. I mean. I guess we have been friends for a while, but I have been a very reluctant horrible bad friend, and mainly only because you will not give up on the idea of us being friends. I thought I didn’t want to be friends, then when you said you were leaving, I realized we already ARE friends, when I realized I did not want to lose you. Hand me this note right now, or I will force it from your hands.” Clint was genuinely smiling now, for the first time since his accident. He pretended to consider not handing the note to his partner, but seeing the dangerous gleam in her eyes, he handed it over. He would have given anything to keep the note, proof the Black Widow thought of him as a friend, but because he was her friend, he handed it over.

Natasha took the paper, walked over to the sink, and lit the note on fire over it. Clint was tempted to laugh at her over theatricality’s, but knew better. Dropping the flaming paper to burn out in the sink, Natasha sat back down and handed over the next note.

“Know that if you ever tell anyone I consider you a friend, I will make sure that you regret it. Now as your friend, here is what I will do. You’ve been trying to get me to do all of this stuff with you since week one of our partnership, so you should be more than happy. 

Three times a week I will have lunch, OR coffee, OR dinner with you. I get to choose where.

Before missions if the ride to the mission is more than an hour, I will not ignore you and read by myself. Instead I will either talk with you, or let you play music off of your phone. Know I will not discuss my past, or listen to country music.

You are always asking me to do dumb stuff with you like go mini golfing, see a movie, go to a museum, play laser tag. So, twice a week I will do one of these dumb activities with you. Just warn me about what it is first, so if you suggest doing something truly idiotic I can shoot myself in the foot first to get out of it. 

Finally, I will spend ONE holiday of your choosing with you every year. You know I prefer to be alone on those days, so this is a big one. Appreciate it Barton. 

In addition to these things I will continue training with you, being your partner, and fixing you up every time you almost get yourself killed on a mission. I will also come visit the farm with you any time you invite me, but only because I like your cat.”

 

Clint was surprised as he read the note, not quite sure how to respond. Natasha knew he might need a couple minutes to think, so she refilled her coffee cup again, hoping it would help her stay awake. When she turned around, she saw Clint had written a new note and put it in front of her empty chair. Natasha sat down and read it quickly.

“Fine. I’ll get the hearing aids, and make sure they give me every   
damn test they can possibly give me to make sure I am still good in the field. And if I do not pass every one of them with flying colors, I’m still going to quit. I’m not putting you in danger. I’m only willing to go back because I have to admit it would be pretty awesome if we both knew sign language, and plus it’s going to be pretty awesome if you finally stop being so stubborn and accept we are friends. One of my conditions- If we are friends, can we buy friendship necklaces?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, PLEASE review guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It makes me so happy when you do!!!


	8. Chapter Eight

The envelope was on Natasha’s desk when she walked into her room, she didn’t have to pick it up to know who it was from. Barton was the only one who would dare to come into the Black Widows room without her permission. Not to mention the only one who was probably capable of picking open the half dozen locks Natasha had installed on the door. 

She picked up the envelope, and felt dread well up inside of her, realizing what the card probably was. 

It had been almost eight months since Barton had his accident, since she agreed to be his friend. And Natasha had gotten used to a lifestyle she never would have thought she’d enjoy a year ago- It turned out eating meals with her partner a couple times a week was pretty nice, even when she let Clint pick the restaurants and he took her to random food trucks, or greasy diners that looked like they had not closed once since opening. And talking before missions was annoying, but hadn’t killed her. Natasha had even gotten used to the mandatory activities with her partner twice every month- She wasn’t going to lie and say she exactly loved bowling, going to the movies, mini golf- ok fine, she hated most of the activities Barton chose the first couple months after the incident. But they had actually learned that Nat was wickedly good at Laser Tag (No surprise there), that arcades were always a fun place to spend a couple hours, and had decided that yes, spending more time training together could occasionally account as one of their activities. 

So fine, it was actually kind of nice being friends with Clint. No one else had even noticed a shift in the relationship between the hawk and the spider, but Clint and Natasha were aware of the difference, and that was all that mattered. Besides, Natasha did not exactly like to let others know she cared about anyone, and preferred that most of Shield thought she could care less about Barton.

Becoming friends with Clint had been far from the worst thing to happen to Natasha. But now the holidays were coming up at the end of the year, and Nat was dreading what she was going to have to do.

She had been sure Clint was going to invite her to celebrate Halloween with him this year- That might even have been a holiday she could handle. She had no childhood memories associated with it, she would be able to wear a crummy mask as her costume all day, they could have just gone to a bar, eaten loads of candy and gotten super drunk- Maybe it could have been fun even. But the holiday had come and gone, and Natasha knew what she was going to have to do.

Clint was going to make her celebrate one of the BIG holidays. Thanksgiving. New Years Eve. Maybe even Christmas. Oh god, if he was going to force her to celebrate Christmas with him, she was going to kill him. Or at least shoot herself in the leg so she could get out of it. Maybe she should have put a clause in the contact, excluding certain holidays he could make her celebrate.

Natasha had nothing against holidays. She understood that people liked to celebrate, that for most of the world holidays were nothing more than fun distractions from every day life, a time to make new memories, celebrate family and friends. Well, for the Black Widow most holidays were nothing more than a horrible reminder of things that had happened in her past. She had learned holidays were when most people let their guard down, so over the years they had become some of the busiest days for the assassin. A lot of red had been spilled onto her ledger on the days most of the world was busy celebrating.

Natasha finally ripped open the envelope and inside- Was a glitter covered Turkey shaped card. She opened it, and inside Barton had scrawled in his familiar handwriting- “I cleared it with Coulson, we get the 25th to the 29th off for Thanksgiving- Before you think of an excuse to back out, I am inviting you to the farm for the holiday. And you said you would always accept an invitation to the farm, so you can’t get out of this Romanoff. We leave early on the 25th, I’ll give you your plane ticket tomorrow. I had to buy the tickets last minute, so the time the plane leaves at is not ideal. But I can tell you about that later. Come find me and I'll explain."

Ok, she could maybe handle this. Thanksgiving wasn’t the worst holiday- Natasha of course had never celebrated it growing up, had only learned about it in the red room. The worst memories she had around the day involved a few missions she’d had to carry out roughly five years ago, when she was just a gun for hire. Before Barton saved her. Well, maybe he could help her forget her past, and actually enjoy a holiday for once.  
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“It’s way too early for this stupidity.” That was the main thought running through the Black Widow’s head as she got off of the plane with her partner. When Clint had written the time of the plane was not ideal, Natasha had assumed that meant it left either super early, or super late. Instead it left at a strange mix of both, and flew out of New York City around two in the morning. Natasha was used to having to wake up early for missions, but that didn’t mean she didn’t hate it. 

They had to sit in the coach section again, Clint really had bought the tickets at the last possible minute- He explained he had not been sure if he wanted to choose Thanksgiving as the years holiday or not, and by the time he made up his mind, this was the only available plane with any seats left. 

They arrived in Iowa at roughly six in the morning, tired, fed up with sitting on a plane, that had been even longer than originally planned thanks to weather difficulties, and surrounded by grumpy people who were just as unhappy being on that plane as Natasha was. Clint actually didn’t seem to mind the ride that much, but that’s probably because his seat had been next to a young woman traveling with a baby. Barton had spent the entire plane ride talking with the woman, and playing with the baby, trying to make the infant laugh, and making him toys out of random thing Clint had in his backpack. Natasha had been stuck sitting next to a college aged boy who kept trying to hit on her, until the Black Widow snuck a little something into his drink, and mysteriously the obnoxious boy went to sleep until the plane landed.

Now, off the plane, the two were driving in a pickup truck Clint had rented, and Natasha thought they were headed to the farm. But to her surprise, the truck passed the turn in the road leading to Clint’s home, and instead continued into town.

“Clint, what the heck? Where are we going?” Natasha asked, taking a gulp of the overpriced coffee she had purchased in the airport. Clint continued driving. “Thanksgiving is in two days, and I promise you that tomorrow the store is going to be totally crowded with last minute shoppers. If we go now we’ll totally beat the rush, and I promise we can get enough food that we won’t have to leave the farm again until we head back to Shield.” That actually made sense, so Natasha didn’t argue about having to go to a grocery store. Partially because she didn’t really care, partially because she was still tired and the coffee had not done its job yet.

The store Clint pulled up to was small, and looked somehow overcrowded and deserted at the same time. Only a handful of cars were in the parking lot, Through the windows Natasha could see that the store was packed to bursting with stuffed shelves, but other than that the building looked vacant.

Clint parked the truck, and grinned at his partner. “Ok, this is going to be awesome. We just have to figure out every meal we want to have when we’re here, find the ingredients for everything, buy it and get out. Piece of cake!” Natasha rolled her eyes, “Aren’t you supposed to have a list or something when you’re grocery shopping?” Clint snorted. “Um, yeah, if you’re a complete amateur! I on the other hand, am a master shopping. Lists are beneath me, I’m way too skilled for them. Come on, watch a master at work!”

He left the truck, slammed the door closed, and excitedly began walking towards the store. Natasha reluctantly followed.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry for how boring and stupid this chapter is. I had to write this to explain the story of the next few chapters, set the scene, stupid dull stuff like that. It is chapters like this that convince me I have zero talent as a writer haha....... Please don't give up on this story because of this dull update, I have ADORABLE and AWESOME ideas about farms, animals, and Clintasha's first real Thanksgiving for the next few chapters!!!!!!!!!!!! Please review. Even if you want to tell me how boring this is. I love all reviews ;D


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! My laptop broke and I only just got it fixed -_- Please enjoy, and let me know what you think of this chapter!!

So far Natasha’s first Thanksgiving had been pretty amusing. When she got up and went into the kitchen, she found Clint was already there, stirring pots, chopping vegetables and trying to keep a cookbook open, even as it kept closing on itself again and again. He had ordered her to leave the room, go watch TV or something, but she had insisted on staying. She had suspected that watching Clint Barton attempt to cook would be far more entertaining than anything she would find on TV, and turns out she had been right.

Natasha was far from an expert on cooking herself- But she was pretty sure Barton’s cooking methods were what most people would consider unconventional. He was using one of his specialty throwing knives to cut up vegetables, claimed he didn’t need to measure everything and that most of the instructions in the recipes were more “suggestions” than actual steps he should follow. If he wasn’t sure what to do next, he would usually stick the food in a pot and put it on the stove, in the hopes things would work out ok. He refused to let Natasha help, much to her irritation, insisting that "she was the guest, and would she please just go watch TV or sharpen her knives or something?” 

The kitchen was soon a giant mess, but the meal was coming together, and actually was looking and smelling pretty good. Around noon Clint shoved one last casserole dish into the already crowded fridge, checked on the turkey, and collapsed into a chair at the table next to Natasha. “I swear Romanoff, if after eating my Thanksgiving dinner you still say you hate Thanksgiving, you are insane.” Tasha rolled her eyes, “I never said I hated it Barton. Never celebrating something and hating something are two totally different things.” Clint grinned, “Ok, whatever. I guess if you say you hate my cooking you are insane then. Especially after I have been slaving over a stove all morning.” Natasha scoffed, “Ok, I offered to help at least a dozen times. You kept being an idiot and insisting I was the guest. You wanted to cook everything alone, you can’t blame that on me.” Clint just smirked, and walked back to the fridge where he grabbed a soda. 

They sat in silence for a minute, then Clint asked, “Hey, would you want to go on a walk? We have a couple hours before that turkey’s ready. I could show you more of the farm, maybe we could walk down the road a bit, could be fun.” Natasha just shrugged, and stood up to go get her coat. “Ok, sure, sounds better than sitting around staring at each other. Let’s go, farm boy."

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It was a blustery day out, windy, the sky blocked by heavy gray clouds. A thin kind of sunshine streamed through gaps in them, but did not provide any warmth. Anyone other than the two super spy’s would also probably say it was freezing out. Of course they were used to cold weather from various missions all over the world- And heck Natasha was Russian, this was considered nice weather in her book. The assassins walked in silence for a bit, Natasha enjoying the cold weather, Clint wishing he had put a warmer coat on. They had just left the house, and were walking in the direction of the road that led out of Clint’s farm. Before long Clint was pointing out various places where things had happened to him as a kid- Mostly places where he had hurt himself. “Oh! See that tree? I was playing hide and seek when I was four, and fell out of it because I climbed to high. Broke my arm….. Didn’t stop me from climbing though. Ah! See that corral there? We used to have a couple of cows, one year my brother convinced me to ride one of them, I must have been seven. I rode the nicest cow, and she totally went nuts. I fell off, almost got trampled by a half dozen terrified cows, and got a concussion. Oh! And then there I cracked open my-“ Natasha interrupted, “Do you have ANY stories that are not about you doing stupid things and getting hurt Barton?” Clint smirked, “Um…. I guess I have a few, but what fun are those? I guess I’ve always been a little daredevil.” Tasha shot back, “More like you’ve always been a little bit of an idiot.” Clint just rolled his eyes at this, before pointing out where he had once cornered a raccoon and gotten bitten. Suddenly they were standing next to the barn. It was a massive building, and clearly had once looked quite impressive, but was now practically falling apart. Natasha had walked by it dozens of times, but for some reason had never gone inside. Today she stopped, and nodded at it.

“What about in here? I bet you hurt yourselves tons of times in that death trap.” She was joking, but Clint didn’t quite smile back. The joking gleam in his eyes had faded, his shoulders slumped slightly. “Um, yeah, I did get hurt in there a ton. But it used to look super nice….. The whole farm used to look really good. I’ve let it go though, now it’s all kind of a death trap I guess. Things are fallen apart, fences are broke, I’ve got wild animals running all over....” The look on his face was so genuinely sad, that Natasha felt guilty for insulting the barn. “Hey, come on. It doesn’t look THAT bad Barton. Come on, show me the place you broke a bone in this barn because you were probably trying to stand on top of a wild horse or something else equally stupid…” Clint smiled at her, and grabbing Natasha’s hand pulled her into the old building.

She thought it would be dark and gloomy inside- But the roof was riddled with gaping holes- no, more than that, entire patches of the roof were just gone. It was probably dangerous in here, it looked like the whole thing might collapse at the slightest breeze. But the lack of a normal roof meant that sunshine (what there was of it) was shining through the gaps, bringing light to the entire building. Huge windows were on many of the walls, and though they were coated with thick layers of grime, thin light faintly shone through them too. 

Natasha had expected a crowded dank barn. But with the lack of a normal roof, the sunlight filling the building, walls of windows and overall emptiness of the place, it was strangely beautiful in here. Clint kicked at some of the dust on the ground, and was looking around. “We kept all our equipment in here. Tractors, plows, seeds, leftovers of whatever we grew and didnt sell. We had a horse once, but I don’t remember that very well. If we’ had it when I was older though you're right, I probably would have hurt myself with it. He winked at Natasha as he said this, but she was busy walking around, softly moving her feet through the thick layers of dust coating the ground.

Clint sighed. “I don’t come in here a lot. We didn’t have a ton growing up, but I remember what was in this barn. And when we had to sell it all. Tractors, tools, the animals…. It just depresses me coming in here. Makes me feel guilty for having the farm and not doing anything with it- Makes me wonder if I should just sell it to someone who would actually use it instead of leaving it empty for most of the year……” Natasha turned to her partner, Clint was staring down at his feet.

If Natasha was a different kind of person she might have tried to make him feel better now. Heck, if this had been happening even a year from now she probably would have said something to cheer Clint up. Maybe make a joke, or point out that he was busy saving the world, and that was worth more than just keeping a farm going. Or maybe she would have told him that she understood why he was still holding on to the farm, even if years went by without him visiting it. Because the Black Widow had never really had a home- But she knew that if she did, nothing would ever convince her to let it go. No matter what. She would hold on to it for as long as she could, and just relish in the fact that she had somewhere from her childhood. A place she belonged.

But Natasha was still not fully used to being a friend, surely not comfortable with saying anything like that to anyone. Not even her partner. So Instead of saying anything, she walked over grabbed Clint’s hand and led him out of the barn.

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They had been walking for maybe half an hour now, and were no longer on Clint’s property according to him. He had suggested they walk down to where his closest neighbor was, and then walk back, saying that if they did the turkey should be ready by the time they got back. Natasha had agreed, and spent most of the walk listening to yet more stories of Clint getting injured as a child, both on his farm and later on when he worked in the circus. 

They were in front of a large farmhouse now, Natasha noted that the farm some distance behind it looked to be in much better shape than Clint’s. Still she privately thought that his looked a lot nicer- Clint's barn might have bee run down, but it had a lot of potential. Plus it was huge. “So, do we turn back here?” She asked, already turning around, knowing the answer to her own question. Clint was nodding- when they heard a gun fire. Instantly Strike Team Delta was on high alert, hidden weapons came out, and the began to move towards the sound of the gun, while looking for cover. But then, another shot went off, and a scrawny looking dog bolted out from behind the house. A furious looking man was trying to run after the animal, but his hefty body build was slowing him down. He was waving a shotgun in the air, and shouting obscenities at the dog. Natasha glanced at her partner, and seeing that he had tucked his knife back away, she did the same with her gun.

Clint was running, intercepting the man before he could again try and fire a bullet at the dog. “Hey! What’s the big idea? What the hell are you doing man?” The gun wielder was sweating profusely, and his face was red with anger. The dog scampered off into the woods. “That damn dog- It has been sniffing around my farm for too long! Digging in my garbage, sleeping on my porch, digging up my wives garden- but this is the last straw! It broke into the chicken coop, and was trying to kill one of my birds! I have prize winning chickens, I am not going to let a damn mongrel just hang around my farm and kill my birds! If he comes back I’m going to shoot him.” The man’s voice raised, he was shouting now, he turned back to where the dog had run off. “HEAR THAT MUTT? I’M GOING TO SHOOT YOU IF YOU COME BACK ON MY PROPERTY!” Breathing heavily, gun still in hand, the man turned back to where Clint had been a moment before. But the archer (and his partner) where both gone. Annoyed, swearing under his breathe, the angry man stormed back into his mouth muttering about stupid dogs and idiots who couldn’t stick around to finish a conversation. 

Clint was running, chasing after where the dog had run off to- And presumably to where Natasha had gone. Luckily it seemed she wanted Clint to follow her, because he found it easy to find her trail and follow it. Of course he was also able to follow the trail of the dog, confirming his initial guess that his partner had run off after the animal.. Clint soon found Natasha, crouching next to a thick bush, cooing in various languages to the scared animal inside. She knew that he was there, but she didn't acknowledge him, he didn't interrupt her. It took almost an hour for her to get the frightened animal out. Clint wanted to stay with Natasha and the dog, but was starting to get worried that back home the turkey was going to burn- and burn his farm down. Just when he was about to head back by himself, the dog slowly poked it’s head out. 

It was obviously a mutt. If Natasha had to guess, she would say it probably had some golden retriever in it, maybe some lab. It was covered in mud, dirt, and who knew what else, but as it slowly came out of the bush, Natasha and Clint saw the poor animal was slowly wagging its tail. Natasha reached out her hand, and cautiously pet the dog. The tail began wagging even harder, soon the dog looked like it was stuck to Natasha’s side. She glanced up at Clint, who was grinning gleefully, and reaching forward to pet the dog himself. “Barton Don’t even think about it. All we are doing is saving this mutt from some idiot who wanted to shoot him,just for eating some dumb chickens. Let’s get him home, clean him up, hopefully we’ll find someone who wants a new dog tomorrow.” Clint just shrugged, grinning, “I didn’t say anything! You’re right, let’s get him home- before our dinner burns my house down.”

Clearly Natasha had earned the dogs trust- He didn’t object when she took off her jacket, and tied it around the animals neck in a kind of makeshift leash. It happily walked back to the farm with the two assassins, tail wagging nonstop, licking their hands when he could reach them, thrilled to be getting some positive attention for once. 

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As soon as they got back to Clint’s house, Barton pulled the turkey from the oven, and drew a bath to wash the dog. Natasha had insisted they should just hose him off outside. It would be much easier, and besides, who knew what kind of bugs the mongrel might have on him. But Clint had been horrified. “Are you kidding Natasha? This poor puppy, has been living out in the woods for who knows how long, with no one to take care of him, and you just want to hose him off? Gosh, I bet you were just going to give him a couple scoops of dog food too.” Natasha rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. “It’s a dog. You are supposed to give it dog food. It’s good for them.” Clint just pretended not to hear her, and grabbed the leash from her hand, urging the dog to follow him. Clearly the dog had decided that thought Natasha had been the one to coax him out of a bush, Clint was the one who was going to be his new best friend. He kept jumping up on the archer, not seeming to care where he was going, just happy someone was paying attention to him. 

Natasha followed the two of them, and warned her partner, “Whatever you do don’t name it. We both know you can’t keep a dog. If you name it you’ll get attached to it.” It could not have been more than five minutes later when she went up into the bathroom, holding some extra towels she was sure Clint was going to need. Already the dog was in the tub, covered in bubbles, wagging it’s tail vigorously not seeming to understand that it’s every movement sprayed more soapy water across the already drenched room. Clint was pretty much soaked too, but he looked as happy as a kid in a candy store- Or more like as happy as a kid with a brand new pet. 

“Oh, come on, buddy, you’re getting water all over! Calm down, then we’ll give you some food!” Natasha blocked herself with one of the towels just in time to avoid the wave of water that splashed towards her. “Barton, I told you don’t name it!!! Don’t call it Buddy!’ Clint rolled his eyes, and squeezed a generous heaping pile of shampoo onto the dog, and began rubbing it into the animals fur. “I’m not an idiot Tash. Who would name their dog Buddy anyway? I was just calling him that as a nickname.” Natasha was relieved, finally her partner had listened to her for once. Then he spoke again. “I was actually thinking of naming him Lucky. Well, ok, it’s a tie between Lucky, and Pizza. I mean, they are both such great names!” The archer turned towards the dog. “It’s your name, what do you like more? Lucky or Pizza?” The dogs eyes were half closed, he seemed to be enjoying the bath. He wagged his tail vigorously again when Clint spoke though. “Ok, Lucky it is! See Nat? He loves it! We can’t just un-name him now!” 

Natasha had a thousand responses for this. Clint couldn’t get attached to this animal, he couldn’t keep a dog on Shield property, Fury would never allow that. A dog wasn’t like a cat, Clint couldn’t just keep it here on the farm either. Basically he was just hurting himself by getting attached to this animal when he was just going to have to give it up. And Lucky was a stupid name, at least Pizza was more original. But Natasha didn’t say any of this. Her partner just looked so- Happy. She decided she would just figure out this whole mess later. For now, why not enjoy herself? Or at least why not help Barton so the dog actually got clean, and the bathroom didn’t get more waterlogged than it already was. 

So, instead of bursting Clint’s bubble and insisting he couldn’t name a dog, or going downstairs to research animal shelters, Natasha sat down besides her partner and helped to give Lucky his much needed bath. 

The rest of the night was extremely nice. It turned out Clint wasn’t that bad of a cook, and the entire meal tasted pretty good. At least it was probably better than anything Natasha could have made. They ate until they couldn’t any more, and fed Lucky more than enough scraps. The dog was clearly in heaven, and was happy for every last bit of food and attention he was given. Natasha went outside and left out a small plate of turkey scraps for Galina the cat. 

And the next couple of day were nice too. They played with the dog a lot, Natasha tried her hand at cooking dinner one night, and that was also the night where they ordered pizza after she burnt most of the food. They walked all over Clint’s land, and did all of their training in the abandoned barn. That was one of Natasha’s favorite things to do- Especially the time they trained in their one night, when the only light came from the stars gleaming through the broken roof above them.

But then of course they had to go back to Shield- And when they went, Clint brought Lucky with him. Coulson didn’t even look surprised when he first saw the dog. Just requested they please keep it out of Fury’s way, and suggested Clint might want to look for an apartment where a dog could stay.   
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review guys!!! it doesn't take all that long, but can really make someones day ;) Anything you want to see happen in future chapters??? Any suggestions? Hope you enjoyed!! Will update soon!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick chapter I wrote to get me back in the swing of fanficiton writing, after a short break, and to set the stoyline of the next few chapters. I hope you enjoy!!!! I am super excited for the next few chapters, so please stick around!! And puh-lease review!!!!!!!! It makes me so very happy when I hear what people think of my writing!!!!!!

“Barton- Damn it, I told you a hundred times already, I refuse to celebrate Christmas with you, and I am not going to your damn farm for any kind of holiday, Christmas joy crap.” Clint rolled his eyes at Natasha, as he continued to towel off his dog, drying Lucky of the rain that was pouring outside. The two assassins had just gone on a walk, not caring how bad the weather was, and Clint had spent the entire walk trying to convince his partner to come visit his farm for a few festive days.

“But Naaaat, you promised! You said you would come to the farm anytime that I asked you.” She interrupted him, unclipping Lucky’s leash, and hanging it up on a coat hook. “Yes, but YOU promised me that you wouldn’t make me celebrate Christmas. That is nonnegotiable Barton, no way in hell am I celebrating that holiday with you.” He put his pouty face on, and tried not to whine, “But Tasha, after Christmas the only holiday we could celebrate this year is New Years Eve!! That’s not as fun…. Besides, I planned on doing that one next year….” “Barton, that’s your fault. I kept telling you to pick a damn holiday already, and they just kept on going by, and you just kept on not picking any. I have no pity for you. This is all your fault. If you don’t want to celebrate New Years Eve with me, then fine, we just wont celebrate any holidays this year.” With that, Natasha stormed into Clint’s kitchen, Lucky following close behind her. 

Wishing he had just asked Black Widow to celebrate something like the 4th of July, maybe Thanksgiving again this year, Barton followed his friend and dog into the next room. Nat was searching through the cupboards for any food they could make for dinner, muttering under her breathe in Russian about idiot archers who didn’t have the sense to go grocery shopping every once in a while. Clint sat down, and waited for a pause in the angry mumbling before he spoke. “Last year you didn’t think you would like Easter, but that turned out to be pretty fun, right? Same with Thanksgiving, you totally didn’t want to celebrate that either, but wasn’t it awesome?” Natasha responded by slamming a cabinet shut, and opening the fridge. He knew he shouldn’t be pushing her like this, there was obviously a reason she did not want to celebrate Christmas. Not with him, not alone, not ever. But Clint knew if he brought Natasha to the farm, he could give her a holiday she would love, and why lie? He just really wanted to have a great Christmas at his farm again after all these years. But, he was a smart man and knew when to give up. After all a deal was a deal, and he had agreed to never make her celebrate Christmas with him. He should have known better than to think she would ever agree to celebrating the holiday, just because it was one of two left in the rest of the year.

He joined her at the fridge, and rested his head on the edge of her shoulder. Clint felt Natasha tense beneath him, but she did not push him away. They stared at the mostly empty fridge for a minute, before Clint moved to grab a couple of beers, and handed one to her. “I’m sorry Romanoff. I knew it was a stupid idea, and that I shouldn’t have asked you. I should have just done Fourth of July, or April Fools, Thanksgiving, anything else this year. It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to celebrate a holiday you clearly are not comfortable with, so I’m sorry.” Natasha opened her beer, and took a long sip from the bottle before responding. “Ok. Thank you.” They were halfway through with their drinks, before she suggested they run out and get some takeout food they could bring back for dinner before she headed back to her apartment. Clint agreed, and after tossing Lucky some bones and his favorite blanket, the two left for their favorite pizza place. In the elevator, Clint asked if he did not pick a holiday for this year, could he have two next year? Natasha just rolled her eyes, and shaking her head, playfully punched him in the arm. Well, maybe not that playfully. But by the time they got to the restaurant Clint had regained most of the feeling in it, so it wasn’t a big deal.  
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One week later, and this time they were in her apartment, and Nat was complaining about the fact that Shield had just announced winter breaks were now mandatory for all agents. Coulson had pulled a few strings, and ok, maybe Clint had called in a couple favors- So Natasha and Clint had the same break schedule, starting on the 16th of December and ending the day before Christmas Eve, when they were apparently going to be sent to Europe so they could carry out a few missions over the holidays. 

Natasha was not a huge fan of cooking, but unlike her partner kept food other than beer and cereal in her apartment. So, tonight they were working in her kitchen attempting to make mac and cheese that did not come in a box for dinner. It had been Clint’s idea, but not trusting either of their cooking skills, Nat had the number for an italian take out place on stand by. Now she was furiously grating cheese, as Clint dutifully stood over a pot of water, waiting for it to boil. Lucky was lying down, and they kept almost tripping over him in the crowded kitchen. Rain again pounded against the windows, and music was playing from Clint’s phone. The entire scene felt undeniably cozy, but all Natasha could focus on was furiously grating her cheese.

“I mean, it’s my freaking life, I should be able to choose when the hell I want to go to work, and IF I want an entire week off for a stupid vacation. What am I supposed to do, read all day? Window shop? Maybe go on one of those stupid cruises? I mean, how can they ban me from the training center? What, do they think if I start training I will be so consumed by the desire to work I will steal a quintjet and set out on a rogue mission??” Clearly Tasha was not sold on the idea of “enjoying a vacation.”

Clint stirred his water with a spoon, peering into it waiting for bubbles to rise, wondering if he should add more salt to the pot. “Nat, Coulson explained why the training center is included in the break. Legally they need to say they have given every Shield employee a certain number of vacation days each year, totally free of Shield influence. I know it sucks, maybe we can find a gym to work in or something? It’s just for a couple days.” Natasha rolled her eyes at this, and swept the now shredded cheese into a large bowl. “Yeah, sure Barton. That sounds great. You can practice shooting arrows at middle aged women taking their Pilates class, and I’ll use the juice bar to practice throwing knives at unsuspecting targets. To top it off maybe we can have a hand to hand training session somewhere everyone can see, and when we almost kill one another, they can freak out and call the police. Sounds like a blast.” Anyone else might have found this response rude, but Natasha was smiling as she spoke, and Clint knew she secretly found this idea to be somewhat amusing. 

He glanced under the pot to make sure the stove burner was indeed on, and wondered how much sticking his hand in the water to test it could possibly hurt. It still was not boiling. Done with her part of the cooking, Natasha glanced over Barton’s shoulder and shook the uncooked box of pasta in his ear. “A watched pot never boils Hawkeye. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that. Come on, let’s give it a couple minutes.” She walked back into the living room, Clint and his dog followed her. 

The two assassins sat on the couch, the dog laid out between them, his head in Natasha’s lap, kicking his back feet against Clint. The Black Widow suddenly looked very tired. “I don’t know, what are you doing about this vacation thing?” She asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Clint tried to shove the dog paws out of his way, but they just kept on coming back. “I haven’t thought about it…. Probably binge watch a bunch of stupid TV shows, eat junk food, loaf around in pajamas, nothing special.” Natasha sighed, and reached out to scratch Lucky on the head. Clint thought before he said out loud what he was thinking, wondering if it would be worth bringing up this idea again. Hadn’t he had it in mind from the start, when he begged Coulson to let his break schedule match his partners? If it didn’t work out and she got mad at him for bringing it up, at least he could use Lucky for protection at the moment…..

“Tash, have you thought about my offer I made last week? Would you maybe want to spend some time on the farm?” Her gray eyes sprung open, for a second Clint saw waves of emotion sear through them. Annoyance, sadness, anger. “What, was that your plan Barton? Did you go to Fury and whine about not having vacation time, so that he would have to set up this stunt? Because if you think just because Fury ordered me to take a break that I will celebrate Christmas on your farm-“ He interrupted her. “No, no! I promise, I had nothing to do with these breaks. Calm down. I am fully aware you will not celebrate Christmas with me, that’s not what I am asking. Our break ends before Christmas Eve even starts, geez. I am just asking if you would rather spend the week in your apartment doing who knows what, being bored out of your mind, or come to the farm. Come on, we can train in the old barn, and look for cool animal tracks in the snow, and I will make fires in the fireplace every night, and I’ll even bring my DVD player, so if you get super bored we can watch movies. I’ll even let you pick a few every now and then.And Lucky can play in the snow!! He’s never seen snow before, just think of how adorable that will be!!” 

Part of Natasha still wondered if Clint had set this whole thing up. Making Fury give everyone a vacation, just so that Barton could make her celebrate Christmas. No, he wasn’t that good of a liar, he certainly wasn’t good enough to lie to het… And honestly probably wasn’t smart enough to convince Fury to do anything he didn’t want to do in the first place. No, this vacation probably wasn’t Barton’s fault. Tasha pulled her hand away as Lucky tried to lick it, then looked at Clint. “If I do go, you have to promise you won’t set up any dumb surprise Christmas celebrations.” Clint nodded, “Done.” “And you can’t give me any gifts, or try to make me wear a Santa hat, or play Christmas music all day.” Clint’s shoulders dropped a little bit. “Ok…..” “Basically you can not mention anything about any holidays, make me celebrate in any way, and if you so much as wish me Merry Christmas, I am leaving.” Clint again shoved the dog’s paws off his lap, “Ok, ok, so you’ll go?” Natasha shrugged. “Fine. But only because it’s better than doing absolutely nothing for a week, and because I really want to see Lucky freak out when he’s around snow for the first time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> Soooo the next couple chapters will be more on this first visit, then I have ideas for more through the years, of one or both of them coming to the farm for various reasons :) Promise each time will not be related to an injury, haha!! Please review. It can make someone so happy and takes less than a minute.


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